


fairy godmother stuff

by fated_addiction



Category: K-pop, Real Person Fiction, TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-14 03:08:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7996348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fated_addiction/pseuds/fated_addiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Mina told her once – “She <i>likes</i> you.”</i> Nayeon hates talking about feelings. Like a lot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fairy godmother stuff

**Author's Note:**

> As per request a la Tumblr. I thought about going AU since I don't really know the _Twice_ fandom that well, but then this happened. After a billion, adorable (like REALLY adorable) .gifs that I watched.
> 
> Hope you enjoy it!

-

 

 

 

Mina told her once – “She _likes_ you.”

It was calm enough to be a confession, accidental at best, even better as forgotten – Nayeon remembers it daily, patterns it into a routine, but not firm enough to hold onto it because there is nothing more terrifying than hearing about someone’s feelings for you.

Today is the same:

Momo bounds off to buy their ice cream, hand stuffed with cash because it’s really Nayeon’s turn to buy and they fought the _entire_ way here since Momo never lets Nayeon pay for anything and all Mina did was roll her eyes at the two of them with some kind of amusement.

Mina leans back on the bench they’ve been sitting on as they wait. Her palms fold against the edge. She sighs, then sighs again and it’s exaggerated.

“ _What_?” Nayeon gives in, exasperated.

“Nothing,” Mina replies. She shakes her head. “I’m not saying anything.”

“You just did though.”

Her friend laughs, hitting her arm gently. She doesn’t say anything; Nayeon is left to wonder if it’s just useless to push. Most of the things she and Mina talk about are oddly introspective, weirdly serious, and on an entirely different level of adulthood neither of them want to admit to.

“You know she likes you,” Mina says finally, after some silence, and Nayeon groans, saying at the same time, “Oh _here_ we go again.”

Mina scoffs. She turns and kicks her foot underneath Nayeon’s.

“She’s not going to say it.”

Nayeon snorts. “You’re talking about weird things again.” She rubs her eyes, yawning. “And don’t tell me that Momo is shy because she’s not. She could totally flirt a paper bag into existence.”

“You’ve thought a lot about this,” Mina half-teases, but isn’t looking her. Her hand shapes over her eyes, covering them from the sun. “It would be a lucky paper bag.”

“I hate you.” Nayeon narrows her eyes. “What’s your point?”

Mina laughs. It takes her a minute to respond: she straightens, as if she’s been planning this, intervention-style – either that or she was volunteered, something that wouldn’t surprise Nayeon. But the smile on her friend’s mouth starts to fade and then she’s looking right at Nayeon, her mouth firming into seriousness and her hand reaching out to curl around her wrist.

“My point,” she says, “is that you two should probably talk. I know this is the part where you say that you guys talk and blah, blah, blah. But I think you need to hear yourself say a few things out loud. I also think that you need to hear her say other things out loud.”

At that point, Nayeon spots Momo walking back, fisting three ice cream cones between her hands. She’s staring straight at them, only to duck and apologize when she nearly runs into a couple of people. Something tugs at the corner of Nayeon’s mouth and she sort of hates herself for it, shyly ducking away when Momo catches her, beaming from a few feet away.

Nayeon’s face feels warm. “I still hate you,” she says.

 

 

 

 

 

The problem with living in the dorms is pretty simple: there are eight other girls and they are always on top of each other. Even if she wanted to have a serious conversation about feelings or whatever, the very idea of doing it in front of all her members makes her anxious and a little crazy. So she waits, ignoring Mina’s watchful gaze, knowing full well that the other girl is trying to be some kind of fairy godmother, which is a little too much as it is. It pulls at her nerves, it makes her head spin even more because she and Momo have always kind of stood at this line and never really crossed into that territory, or even entertained the idea at all.

“This _sucks_ ,” she breathes to herself and Jihyo looks up from her books, amused when Nayeon waves her off and disappears into the hallway. She’s a little dejected and figures jumping into her bed might just write this off for another day, one where she’s feeling a little braver.

But when she gets to her room, she pivots, suddenly, and drags herself off to Momo’s bed, heart dropping into her throat because her body seems to have a mind of its own. Sana is walking out of the bedroom too, smiles widely and presses a kiss to her jaw as she skips off. Nayeon is bewildered.

When she steps inside, Momo is alone.

“I have a question,” she manages, and Momo looks up from her bed, folding a magazine closed over her arm to mark whatever page. Nayeon fidgets with her sleeves. “Just _one_ question though,” she blurts.

Momo laughs. “It’s too cold for ice cream, eonni.”

“Not my question.”

Momo ignores her and sits up, patting a spot on the bed for her. Nayeon tries to ignore how her heart has grown into this lump in her throat, throbbing with each step. She’s suddenly nervous, maybe too nervous; it’s the pressure, she almost tells herself, stops midway, and then tells herself: _that’s an excuse_.

The bed sinks under her weight. She shifts and turns, cross-legged, facing Momo with a sort of shy apprehension. Her mouth purses and there are words, a lot of words, some she’s not entirely sure she wants to say yet because she doesn’t even know if she’s dealt with any of these feelings. She meets Momo’s gaze again, freezing this time around, and then forces herself to swallow.

“Mina,” she chooses her words carefully, “told me to talk to you.”

Momo’s eyes are huge.

“So I guess – I _mean_ ,” Nayeon almost stutters, “I wanted to know three things that you would take to a deserted island. And then why! Because, you know, the _why_ is way too important.”

Momo stays quiet. Her gaze is almost unreadable; Nayeon wonders if she’s treaded into a space that she should’ve thought about more, the direct link to her confusion, of course.

“Well,” Momo starts, finally, and the knots in Nayeon’s stomach are nowhere near disappearing for good. Her palms are starting to flush too. “I think,” Momo taps her lips, “I would take a radio and enough batteries for me to figure out how to rig my own power supply?”

Nayeon blinks. “Only you,” she mutters, shaking her head. A smile pushes at her lips.

“Well,” Momo says. “It makes the most sense and if it gets busted on the boat crash or plane crash or whatever, there are batteries at least for some kind of heat source? Jeongyeon-eonni told me I should bring a knife too, just in case.”

She’s disappointed – Nayeon hates that she’s admitting that to herself. She’s disappointed, but can barely define what she wants to hear. “So that’s your third?” Nayeon asks. “Your knife?”

Momo laughs. “You can bring me the knife,” she says. “Because we’d be on that plane together. I didn’t even think about you not being there. So technically, you’d be my third because you can’t say no to me and I would have probably dragged you on the trip that lands us on a deserted island. You’d be mad at me for the first couple of days, but then we’d build our own house and live happily ever after – close to it.”

Nayeon stares at her. Watches how Momo’s face wrinkles up into cute delight, her smile ridiculously infectious. She’s smiling too because it’s kind of the answer she almost wants, but she’s stepped into another circle that she can’t get out of. She looks down and sighs, her fingers curling into Momo’s blankets.

“What’s wrong?”

Nayeon shrugs. “I don’t know,” she manages. “Stuff.”

Momo’s finger lands on her nose. Startled, Nayeon looks up only to watch Momo drag her hair behind her ear, her fingers settling along Nayeon’s neck.

So Nayeon says it, fumbling.

“Mina… told me that you like me. Not whatever-like. But like- _like_ me. The kind with kisses and hand holding and curling up in bed because we’re the only ones up early in the morning anyway. That kind.”

Momo doesn’t answer.

 

 

 

 

 

The first time Momo kisses her – and it’s like that a lot, Momo kissing her, seriously, always seriously – she wasn’t even paying attention. You know, it’s just that everything was a whirl, from the show to their debut, to the intensity of their singing, lessons, dancing, more lessons, and being thrown into this cycle with a bunch of other girls who were also still bewildered about spot.

But they were alone in the practice room and Nayeon had, just had to get this last rotation of steps because she’s been off all day and she needed to work through it. She doesn’t remember if Momo volunteered, but Momo is here, guiding her like a doll, her thumb rolling into her belly and t-shirt, her fingers skirting against her shoulder and face as she adjusts things while saying “your position is _this_!” like a drama.

What she does remember: she breathes, and nothing was the same after that because Momo’s face takes on a shade of pink and her mouth puckers out because _oh god they’re closer_ and she no longer cares about knowing who breathes first, but Momo’s mouth covers hers and she’s sighing right into the kiss, clutching the hand over her stomach. It’s stillness for awhile, until Momo’s mouth moves and Nayeon bites at her mouth because it seems like something she’d like – and Momo does this soft, short little sigh that feels nothing like a burst of air.

What she does remember: things are going to change and those words haunt her mouth as the music ends and they both pull apart, staring at each other like strangers, wide-eyed until Mina and Jihyo wander back into the practice room to get them for dinner.

The entire night, Nayeon remembers her lips as red.

Certain things stand as understood.

 

 

 

 

 

“I like you,” Momo tells her.

This is afterwards, after sitting through another bout of silence because all Nayeon had to say: “I know you like me – so what’s next?” and it’s weird because Momo is serious and Nayeon is overwhelmed by the intensity of the knots in her belly because she thinks she’s just confessed too.

Her throat burns. “I know.” She laughs nervously. “Mina told me.”

Momo smiles, then reaches forward. She tucks more hair behind Nayeon’s ear. “I’m not shy about it,” she says quietly. “I’m not going to be. But I’m also not going to go anywhere that you don’t want to go. I’m okay with this being one-sided, you know?” Their fingers lace together and Nayeon’s stomach drops. “I’ve been okay for awhile,” Momo adds.

Everything sort of bursts then, apart and indirectly, her head spinning with all sorts of responses. She panics because she thinks _what if she doesn’t like me anymore_ and it seems a little childish, considering that she hasn’t even gotten to the point where she understand what she feels.

“I’m not.” She says it again: “I’m not,” her voice trembles, “okay – okay with it being one-sided.” Her eyes water with angry tears. “I feel like hitting you,” she mutters, dropping her head against Momo’s shoulder. “You should said something to _me_ , dummy. You should’ve have to bear these feelings alone.”

Momo is smiling. It’s a little sad and strange. “I don’t even know how you feel,” she points out.

“I’m okay with getting lost on a _deserted island_ with you!” she nearly yells, hitting Momo’s arm again. “I like cuddling with you, dummy. We have a _touching_ game.”

“We have a touching game,” Momo repeats. Her mouth is twitching.

“ _Look_ ,” and Nayeon doesn’t even think about what she’s saying anymore, “just because everyone knows that you like me, that we kissed that one time, doesn’t mean that I don’t like you. Words are important. You have to treat the words just as well. _But it doesn’t mean that I_ … It just means that I’m trying to figure out how to say it and that maybe, maybe everyone should stop assuming that I don’t like you and let me like you on my own time. Because then I wouldn’t have to ask lame questions that are kind of like circle yes if you want to go out with me –”

Momo grabs the back of her head, threading her fingers into her hair, and just kisses her.

It takes way too long for this to register for Nayeon. She sort of sits there and breathes into Momo’s mouth, eyes wide as the other girl kisses her and doesn’t stop kissing her. It feels like she’s forgotten how to move.

_i like you too_

Slowly, steadily, Nayeon’s fingers start to move from her thighs to Momo’s arms as she sort of untangles and drags Momo back onto the bed with her. Her mouth is hot, softening as Momo makes this sound of surprise, pushing her tongue inside of her mouth to lap at her teeth. It feels like more than a first kiss. At some point too, they start to meld into a mess of limbs, the blankets from Momo’s bed wrapping at their feet.

“You have to wait for me,” Nayeon breathes, trembling against Momo’s mouth, “to _catch_ up.”

Momo’s hands flutter at her hips and Nayeon feels the smile.

“You’re already there,” she says.

 

 

 

 

 

Mina isn’t usually a morning person.

A sleepy Nayeon stumbles out of the wrong bedroom, wearing a long sweatshirt that doesn’t belong to her. Her bangs are sticking to her face when she sits down next to Mina, grabbing a cup for water. She breathes into a hand, her nose wrinkling as she smells her morning breath.

Mina is bright-eyed and has been up for awhile. She leans across the counter, smug as she cups her mouth and stage whispers to Nayeon:

“So it’s Momo’s turn to buy ice cream, right?”

Nayeon kicks her chair.


End file.
